


Jackson Whittemore

by Nightingale231



Series: Pack Mama Stiles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Baby Pup Jackson, Beta’d, Cuddling, Floof, Food, SO MUCH FLUFF, Stiles is called mama by the pack, discrete mention of alchohol abuse, genderfluid author, its blink and you miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-24 21:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21344659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightingale231/pseuds/Nightingale231
Summary: Jackson knocks on the Stilinski door in the middle of the night.The Sheriff opens it.
Relationships: Jackson Whittemore & Stiles Stilinski
Series: Pack Mama Stiles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545235
Comments: 21
Kudos: 739





	Jackson Whittemore

The sheriff looked up from his desk, the rain thundering outside.

_Knock. Knock._

He got up and looked through the peephole. _What the..._

Jackson _fucking_ Whittemore was standing outside, shivering, bruised. He opened the door, hearing his son wake up.

“Can I help you?”

“Sorry sir, I was just wondering if Mo... if Stiles is home.”

Noah Stilinski pulled him in and started questioning what the _hell_ Whittemore was doing near his old victim.

“Dad, who is it?” Stiles turned the corner and let out a gasp as soon as he saw Jackson. “Jackson, oh my god!” He hurried forward, nudging Jackson toward the table. He frowned when Jackson winced. “What the actual _fuck _happened?! Jacks, seriously, sit _DOWN_, I’ll get food out, and tell me what happened.”

Noah was shocked at this turn of events, watching his son natter on as he pulled milk out and put some on the stove. The bread in the toaster pinged. It was obvious that the two had forgotten he was there.

A small, shaking voice cut through the speech.

“It was the Alphas.”

Stiles swung around, the picture of incredulity. And then he looked mad.

“Goddamnit, that’s why you haven’t healed yet. Which ones, huh?! One of them _hurt_ my _pup_, they’re _not _gonna get away with this.”

Noah wondered if he has hallucinated the last twenty minutes. Stiles, next to Jackson Whittemore.

“And also, _HE_ got into the liquor cabinet again.”

Stiles softened.

“You want me to call Papa for you?”

Jackson’s reply gave him pause halfway back to the paperwork.

“Momma, I just wanna cuddle and watch Disney for a bit, kay?”

“You know where my room is, pup. You head on up there and get the laptop open. I’ll get the furry first aid kit out.” Stiles nudged Whittemore up the stairs, frowning when he winced. The sheriff watched incredulously.

~~**~~**~~LiNe BrEaK~~**~~**~~

Later, Noah walked into his son’s room only to see a strange sight. He nearly reached for where his gun would be in uniform.

Jackson Whittemore and Derek Hale in the same bed as his son. Stiles and Derek were curled around the blond, who was clinging onto his son like a lifeline.


End file.
